Sight
by Beth Weasley
Summary: Five years have passed, and evil rears its ugly head again. Eileen must choose her future, but with Riddick tangled deep in the situation, it could become difficult for them both to survive. Part Three of the Seer series. M for language, gore, and smut.
1. Chapter 1

Part Three of the Seer series. It's been five years for the characters, and this chapter includes a brief recap on what Eileen, Riddick, and Jackie know. Foreshadowings of the future abound in this installment, as Eileen gains more control of her abilities. As I've said before, I've transplanted some rather large chunks of the original version. It's not mine, y'all. I'm just playing with them and practicing for the real deal.

**Sight**

A_ Chronicles of Riddick_ Alternate Universe

Chapter One

"They are an army," said a voice in my ear, its accent similar to Paris Ogilvie's, but feminine in tone, "unlike any other, crusading across the stars toward a place called Underverse, their promised land, a constellation of dark, new worlds."

Blue-white light flared from within a metal enclosure, and I found my viewpoint move back and away from the light, until I could see what held it. Three gigantic graven faces stared in their own directions, and then, suddenly, the faces began to make a groaning noise, like stone against stone. Once they stopped, a pulsing, blue-white ball—there were shadowy patches on it as well—shot straight up to hover probably at least a kilometer into the air.

"Necromongers, they're called," the voice continued as I got further from the terrible power in that blue-white ball. Ships hovered in a circle around the thing, their engines seeming to draw _in_ shadows, rather than giving off any sort of exhaust. They hung in midair, over a half-ruined city, thunder rumbling as the orb spun gently on its axis. Then the view turned. "And if they cannot convert you, they will kill you. Leading them, the Lord Marshal." Another set of three faces entered my field of vision, but this time one of them had _real_ eyes; it was a man in armor, the shoulder-plates covered with tortured faces, seeming to scream in silence. "He alone has made a pilgrimage to the gates of the Underverse and returned a different being, stronger, stranger; half alive and half… something else." A small cast form rose from a panel, its arms twisted painfully around a handle, and a ghostly gauntlet reached out to grip it, followed by the actual hand itself. The handle was pushed back down.

My view returned suddenly to the ball of light, which whirled, turning itself into a ring of light, black particles being spewed away. Then the light dropped like a stone as my viewpoint sped backwards. A mushroom-shaped cloud arose, accompanied by a dull _boom_ and disintegrating buildings.

"If we are to survive, a new balance must be found." I kept retreating, at ever-increasing speeds, as the ground itself was seared away, the crust of the planet cracking and splitting. I might have been in orbit, then, watching dozens more of these destructive explosions blanket the planet in death.

"In normal times, evil would be fought by good, but in times like these, well, it should be fought by another _kind_ of evil." My mate's face replaced the dying world, his silver eyes shining. 'Big Evil,' they called him. _My_ Big Evil.

* * *

I jerked slightly as I woke, horrified by what I had just seen. World-killers, changing or destroying every living thing they came across, and Riddick was the 'Verse's best hope against them? My man was certainly not into 'fighting the good fight.'

I could feel him curled against my back, one arm holding me close as he took deep, even breaths. Only with me did he sleep this deeply, as though the fact that we were both present were enough to keep away all threats. Heat radiated into me; sleeping with him was like having a furnace wrapped around my body. Comfortable, I closed my eyes again.

* * *

A pink-red sky greeted me, familiar hills covered in gravestones all around. _She_ stood next to me, gazing into the distance.

"You have settled your past," she said, breaking the silence. She was the only one who ever spoke in these dreams, making it seem as though I _couldn't_ speak. "But he has not. It is up to you to guide him until he does. You… you must choose your future. Our dead cry out for vengeance." Then she faced me, pale green eyes boring into mine as she splayed her right hand over her heart. "It is time that you wore the mark." She then extended the hand toward me, stopping just before she touched my breast. "This is going to hurt." Then her hand moved that last centimeter.

* * *

This time, my waking was accompanied by the agony of all my muscles seizing at once. I barely managed to clamp my lips shut over a scream, not wanting to disturb Jackie. 'Hurt? What an understatement!' I thought. Strong arms clamped down around me, pinning my arms to my sides as I shook.

"What the hell?" Riddick's words seemed to trigger the end of my convulsions, and I went limp in his embrace. "What the fuck was that?"

"Not sure," I wheezed. Then I looked down and saw the glowing handprint, right where the woman—the Furyan, I supposed—had put her hand. "Shit. Freak-o-meter is off the scales," I grumbled. The escaped convict looked over my shoulder.

"You're fuckin' tellin' me? What happened?"

"I don't know!" I replied, getting a little panicked. "Another dream with _her_, and she put her goddamned hand _right there_, and it hurts like fuck!" The eerie bluish light faded, as did the pain.

"I am _not_ likin' that bitch, whoever she is," he snarled. I began to relax again, but I sure as hell wasn't going back to sleep.

It had been five years since I met him: Richard B. Riddick, escaped convict, murderer—Furyan, maybe, whatever the hell that meant, and my mate, my perfect complement. We don't match at all, not really. He's tall, and ripped, where I'm petite and lean, toned. Where he has weakness, I am strong, and vice versa. In a fight, we move like one being in two bodies, perfectly coordinated. It's strange, I'll admit, but it works like no partnership I've ever seen. Maybe it's a Furyan thing, if that's what we are—I wouldn't know, not having seen one that was really alive, let alone a pair connected like we are.

For most of those five years, we've been drifting around the 'Verse, moving wherever the cargoes we haul take us, just the three of us in our ship. Me, Riddick, and Jackie. Jacquelyn Braith, to be more exact, a former runaway. She'd been twelve when the Hunter-Gratzner crashed on a desert planet, leaving us as three of the thirteen survivors, complete strangers to each other. We'd lost only one getting off that planet, and I doubted that anyone had ever really missed Johns. He was scum, anyway, and I killed his brother about a week later. Yeah, see my tears of mourning… _not_.

His brother had been one of the mercs we'd survived after that, and they just kept coming, no matter how many times I falsified reports of Riddick's 'death.' It had gotten to the point where we typically used different names for each job, just to muddy our trail and stay ahead of the bounties. The only person who could contact us directly was Jamie Cartwright, a man who had been like an older brother to me when I was little. Technically speaking, he was also my boss; just because we were always on the move, it didn't mean I couldn't continue to analyze crime scene reports and psychological profiles.

From time to time, Jamie got messages from the other survivors and passed them on to us. We hadn't heard from Carolyn Fry, the H-G's pilot, at all, but that was all right. She'd nearly gotten me and Riddick turned into a pair of living statues, anyway. Paris Ogilvie occasionally pointed us in the direction of profitable contracts, people who needed a small shipment taken somewhere quickly. Shazza and Zeke, when they had access to communications—which wasn't often, as they were prospectors—were amusing, thanks mostly to her crazy relationship with her trillionaire father. Sean O'Connell would send us data on weird space phenomena, helping us avoid things like the rogue comet that had trashed the Hunter-Gratzner. But most of our mail came from Abu al-Walid, affectionately called 'Imam' by all three of us; he kept us up-to-date on his family, as well as Suleiman, Hassan, and Ali, who had been traveling with him to New Mecca.

I especially enjoyed my infrequent opportunities to talk to my 'niece,' Jamie's four-year-old daughter Alexa. To borrow one of Riddick's phrases, she was a 'cute kid.'

Sick of lying in bed awake while my mate got up and showered, I put on my robe and went to the galley and started a pot of coffee. The smell was guaranteed to bring Jackie out of her cabin at approximately the same time as breakfast was ready.

This morning, breakfast got put on hold when the comm went nuts.


	2. Chapter 2

Short chapter. Since no one's hiding on UV 6, and the three of them don't stay in one place for more than a couple of days, something else must be done to bring them to Helion... These folks aren't playing nice.

**Sight**

A _Chronicles of Riddick_ Alternate Universe

Chapter Two

I managed to get breakfast out of the cooker before Riddick emerged from our cabin wearing nothing but a towel. The alert tone from the comm meant that it was from Jamie, and he'd punched in the 'emergency' code as he dialed. I rolled my eyes at the big man and waved him out of the Vid pickup's range. A very familiar face came up on the screen.

"Oh, thank God, you guys are awake," was the first thing that came out of Jamie's mouth.

"Two of us, at least," I responded, thinking of Jackie. Teenagers. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Jamie was usually quite composed when he called, but now he looked like he'd been trying to tear his hair out by the roots.

"Uh, well, it's to do with your boyfriend." That was sobering, and I frowned. "There's, uh, some people here that want to talk to him, bad." Then I noticed that the background wasn't his office, but his kitchen. The former would have been bad, but this was far worse. These 'people' weren't using legal channels to find Riddick; they knew he was connected to me, and that I was connected to Jamie, and they weren't afraid to use those links to get what they wanted.

"Bastards," I mouthed, carefully not making a sound. Jamie's eyes went down, then back up in a subtle confirmation of my opinion.

"They say to –how the hell are they supposed to know where that is?" He flinched visibly. "All right, all right! No, I'll tell them, just leave her alone! They say to meet them on Helion Prime, at the holy man's house."

"Why the fuck should we?" the ex-con rumbled from his vantage point, his voice loud enough to be transmitted.

"OK, OK! They'll put the bounty up to two mil, for one thing." Riddick's expression darkened. Not good. "And they've pretty much taken us hostage, in case you say no."

'They did _not_ just threaten my family,' I thought. That was the wrong thing to do… but then a muzzle came into view, pointed at Jamie's temple. A large bead of sweat rolled down his face.

"Remove the goddamned gun," I snarled.

"We can be there in one week," my mate said, his voice carrying over my growl. "_But_ you will leave the Cartwrights the _hell_ alone, or there will be no talking, just dying." The threat must have worked, because the gun vanished and Jamie sat back, chest heaving.

"And I'll be calling at random intervals to make sure it stays that way," I added. My pseudo-brother nodded, looking even more relieved. There are times when paranoia is a good thing, and this was one of them.

"O-OK, one week," he confirmed. "They—they'll be waiting for you."

"I'll talk to you later, Jamie."

"Sure, Eileen. Looking forward to it." The screen went black, the call terminated from his end. Jackie chose that moment to emerge from her room, rubbing at her eyes.

"Did I just hear Jamie?" she asked. I let my forehead drop to the desk's cool surface as Riddick explained, cussing under my breath. "So I guess we're going to go see Imam," the teen concluded.

"I have a bad feeling about this," I groaned. Two pairs of eyes fixated on me as I stood and got the meal going again. We always paid attention to my 'bad feelings.'

"There was another one?" my lover asked as he cleaned his plate.

"Before the one that made me spazz? Yeah." And I played it out for them in words, not knowing what these 'Necromongers' had to do with us meeting someone on Helion Prime. It had _something_ to do with it, I knew it in my bones.

"Worst case scenario," Jackie stated a few hours later, "these fuckers arrive while we're there and start their invasion." I knew that plotting look all too well; insanely, she had a knack for this. 'Plan for the worst and hope for the best,' was her damned motto, practically, and she was good at putting it into action. Eternally optimistic, yet a realist at the same time.

Before the day was over, we had changed course, notified our customer of the delay, and had a solid plan hammered out.


	3. Chapter 3

More explanations. As a reminder, 'Imam' is an honorific that basically means 'holy man' or 'priest.' Also, the reason why, after five years of romantic relations with Riddick, Eileen has not gotten pregnant. They find that they cannot save everyone they care for.

**Sight**

A _Chronicles of Riddick_ Alternate Universe

Chapter Three

Helion Prime was just as the travel agencies described it, and yet more incredible at the same time. The too-blue waters that I would bet were the perfect temperature for swimming in, the seas of sand, the solar collectors, and the massive facilities that distributed the collected light to the other worlds in the system. We'd never come here before; caution kept us from actually visiting the other survivors' homes.

We knew that not every merc on the _Kubla Khan_ had died during our escape, and there had to have been cameras on the flight deck. It would only take one smart merc to track down the others and set up surveillance on them, surveillance they'd never even think to look for, let alone detect. One visit would be all it took.

Abu al-Walid was certainly not a hard man to locate in New Mecca, either. He'd risen in the world, so to speak, becoming part of the city's governing council. Married, too, according to the public directory; I wondered what kind of woman Lajjun would prove to be. There was little noticeable urban sprawl in his neighborhood, not with the classical Islamic architecture that predominated there.

"Thank Allah, you are here," Imam said when he opened the door at our knock. He gripped my arms gently as he beamed, as though he were making sure I was real and not a hallucination. He then turned to the young woman at my side. "Young Jack?"

"Hey, Imam," she answered. "It's good to see you." Then the man looked around for my other half.

"And… _him_?"

"Hovering, as usual," was Jackie's flippant remark. I rolled my eyes and elbowed her, catching sight of a rather familiar 'shadow' on a nearby rooftop.

"He'll be here," I said simply. We were ushered inside then, the dimly lit house refreshingly cool after the midday heat outdoors. Imam handed us both sweating glasses of something, and then I felt my mate step up behind me.

"Holy man." That was all he said by way of greeting. Riddick's silvered eyes gleamed from beneath the hood of the cloak he'd chosen to wear.

"My friend. Please, be welcome in my home. I do not know when those who sought you will arrive, but they _will_ be here." I gave him a wary stare.

"You told them they could reach us through Jamie," I stated. "They threatened him and his family, in their own home." Abu's face fell.

"I had hoped that they would not go to such lengths," he sighed. "Little Alexa has become my Ziza's best friend, despite the distance between them." All the air that I'd been building up for a blistering reprimand went out of me. He'd had no idea what these people were willing to do, and therefore could take no blame for their actions.

Whoever had decided to use my family as a bargaining chip was going to pay, dearly.

Night closed in as we waited. Imam's wife returned from what appeared to be a routine trip to market, Ziza in tow, and they were introduced to us. Lajjun was a likeable, understanding woman; the little one was just too cute for words.

"Did you _really_ kill monsters?" she asked me. "Ones that were going to kill my father?"

"I had some help." I told her before cutting my eyes toward Riddick and giving her a lopsided grin. He was being his usual public self: anti-social and looming in a dark corner. When Ziza trotted right up to him, tugged his hand, and began rattling off questions, he shot me a betrayed look, but crouched down and indulged her.

Kids, especially young ones, were his one big soft spot, something I knew rather well. That was why, when we had made our first stop at Icarus after leaving the _Kubla Khan_, I had gotten hormone blockers put in, without asking him or anything. No merc was going to get the opportunity to use Riddick's own flesh-and-blood child against him.

We went upstairs as it grew dark, to a room whose balcony overlooked Imam's front door. An appallingly large—or close—comet came into view, and the holy man stared at it as he spoke.

"It is said the comet always precedes them, these world-enders." My eyes widened a fraction. The ones I'd dreamed of? "The Coalsack planets are gone, eight million settlers missing. The entire Aquilan System is gone, too. Helion Prime shares its sunlight with all worlds nearby. If we fall, they fall. And after that…" He ran his prayer beads through his hands nervously. "My God, how do I save my family?"

There was a long, strained silence then. Jackie's eyes were like old-fashioned teacup saucers, wide with apprehension. Riddick's posture and attitude said he didn't care, but I knew it was a false front, hiding the turmoil I could practically feel from him. Then voices rose from the plaza, and I stood to look over the rail. Three figures in dark robes were crossing it, wide cowls hiding their faces. As they approached Imam's door, I got the nagging feeling that there was another person there, or more, whom I couldn't see.

That impression got worse when Imam led them into the room.

"The one you want is now here," he told them. My mate yanked away the cloth over one's lower face. The other two removed theirs on their own, but I was watching the rest of the room. The curtains on the balcony fluttered, and the candles' flames blew about in a wind that I couldn't feel. My left arm snapped out at shoulder level, one of my daggers extended along the ulna. Riddick's right hand flicked into place just above my arm, a shiv in his grip.

A woman appeared then, both razor-sharp edges at her neck, whispering against the light scarf that covered her hair and draped about her neck. She appeared to be old, with her snow-white hair and gently wrinkled face, but I of all people knew how deceiving that could be.

"And whose throat is this?" the big man wondered aloud. Imam stepped forward hastily.

"If you cut my throat," the woman said, "I'll not be able to rescind the offer that brought you here." I was willing to bet that she meant the increase in the bounty. Was it set to go up unless she told someone otherwise? She twitched, just barely, and my right arm flickered out to cross the left, its blade caressing the back of her neck. I knew that voice… from my dream.

"Not one step," I warned her.

"Nor tell you why it is so vital that you did come," she continued after a brief pause.

"The blades come off when the bounty comes off," my mate growled.

"This is Aereon, an envoy from the Elemental race," Imam interjected. "She means you no harm!" I gave him a look that all but screamed, 'give me a break!' If she was in charge of this operation, then she was responsible for what had happened at Jamie's.

"There are very few of us who have met a Necromonger and lived to speak of it. So when I choose to speak of it, you should choose to listen." She sounded supremely assured of her superiority.

"Then tell me how you came to narrate one of my dreams?" I asked snidely. Her startled look was most gratifying. "And yes, I told them about it." I nodded first in Riddick's direction, and then in Jackie's. Aereon started again, apparently not having noticed the quiet girl.

"Truly, I would not know," she admitted. "So you know of them?"

"Yeah, and what they do when they invade," Jackie murmured. She was awfully subdued for some reason.

"There is a story, Riddick," the holy man offered, "of young male Furyans, strangled at birth." My ears perked up. He had obviously heard us on the skiff all those years ago. "Strangled with their own cords. When Aereon told this story to the Helion leaders, I told her of you." Ah, so that was why they'd come looking for us.

"What do you know of your early years?" asked one of the men, a short, swarthy fellow.

"Do you remember your homeworld, where it was?" Imam added.

"Have you met any others?" Shorty continued.

"Others like yourself?" Aereon elaborated.

"Just her." My mate locked eyes with me, and i stepped away from Aereon, away from them all, until I was deep in the shadows. I felt muscles move in my eyes, muscles I'd gained a little bit of control over, and the Elemental and her three acolytes gasped. I stepped forward again, sheathing my blades with a quiet whir. Riddick smirked.

"Sister, they don't know what to do with just _one_ of me. They've had a hell of a time tryin' to catch two of us." There was pride and amusement in his voice. We'd trounced every group of mercs that had caught up to us in the last five years. _Soundly_ trounced them.

"Your dream, child." I frowned at Aereon as she spoke. "What did you see?" So I told her, the whole damned thing, and she stood there and considered it for a moment.

"Your description sounds like the Aquilan system, or close to what it was when last I saw it. I've seen them destroy a planet, from orbit, and the Icons are unmistakable. Their Lord Marshal…. It has been thirty years since I saw the man you described, and he wasn't Lord Marshal then."

"I think I've heard enough of this shit," my lover decided. "So now who do I hafta kill to get this payday off my head?"

"Thirty years ago," Aereon began with a sigh, "a young warrior consulted a Seer. He was told a child would be born of the planet Furya, a male child, who would someday cause the warrior's downfall. He has since become Lord Marshal." She paused. "At least I know now that two Furyans _did_ survive the massacre." Her tone was hushed, almost respectful.

"Maybe you should start looking for more like me," I told her. "Kids adopted when they were days old, around that period. I can't be the only one whose mother ran and managed to give her child to good people."

"True," she mused. A banging on Imam's door interrupted us all, and I peered over the railing to see guards in the plaza, dressed like those who had checked over our ship at the port before letting us park it out in the desert that morning. Lajjun opened one door, looking frightened.

"They are searching houses!" she said. "They look for men who came here today. They think they might be spies."

"Not us," I stated. "We came as women, openly, and he wouldn't have let himself be seen." I waved at Riddick.

Then the door was audibly broken out of its frame, and the Terrific Trio dashed downstairs to divert the guards. Imam and Lajjun followed them, shutting the door behind them. My mate and I started putting out candles around the room.

"Take cover," I told Jackie and Aereon. The latter began to move and was invisible a second later. The teen hunkered down between a heavy cabinet and the corner, in a space barely large enough to hide her. She knew that, if she tried to fight in the dark, she would only be a hindrance. "This could get ugly." Then the doors burst open for eight, maybe a dozen men.

"You're not afraid of the dark, are ya?" the big man asked, putting out the last two candles with his bare hands. Idiots that they were, the guards immediately began shooting.

I didn't particularly want to kill these guys, but it was similar to the situation with the mercs; they wouldn't stop until they were dead. Of course, given our night-sight, the fight didn't last long. When we emerged from the room to look down the stairs, another guard, probably not much older than Jack, was holding a knife on Imam and shaking. Riddick took one step forward, and the kid dropped the knife and fled.

Sirens began to wail then. At first, I wondered if they were that scared of us, but then the planetary batteries began to chatter, and Jackie barreled down the stairs.

"Inbounds," she said, and the one word explained it all. Spies for the Necromongers, they'd been thinking, and here came the invasion. Lajjun and Ziza stepped just inside the front door, the little girl clinging to her mother.

"We go to the shelter," Abu decided. "We take only ourselves."

"Ship," I countered. "A shelter goes nowhere. A ship…" He nodded in understanding, and so began our flight through the city. At a few places, we had to fight against the flow of the crowd. When we came to a wide plaza, I went ahead with the two men, checking that the path was clear. We were almost across, Jackie, Lajjun, and Ziza nervously waiting for the all-clear, when the sounds of quick-marching soldiers came from opposite directions, splitting our party in two. Riddick and I had to pull Imam into a damaged building to lean against the sheltered side of a wall.

I peeked around the corner a couple of times after the shooting started, just to gauge the fight. It was ugly, that was for sure. There couldn't have been more than a score of Necromongers, versus at least fifty Helion Prime troops. The last Necromonger standing had planted a staff when the native troops started to hit him, and his last act was to twist the grip and pull it down. The top spread open, and I ducked back behind the wall as soon as I saw the little ball of light.

"I must get to my family," the holy man began to protest.

"When it's over," we both told him. Then the explosion came, debris flying through the openings on both sides of our temporary shelter. Once the dust settled, I peeked again, only to find Necromongers flooding the plaza.

"That was a miniature of what they do when they leave," I murmured to the others. Abu's fright was almost palpable.

When the plaza had emptied, we collected the others and continued our trek. We were running down a narrow alley when we were almost caught by a small patrol. The alley widened just a bit, into a tiny plaza with a recessed doorway on either side, and we all dove for cover. Riddick and I went left, the rest going right. The armored soldiers paused as they went by, one trio stopping altogether. One of them wore something that looked like a bizarre diving mask, the twisted features behind it lit by a blue glow. The second held a sort of viewer that was connected to the first by a cable. The first clicked for a few seconds, focusing on a Helion trooper's corpse in the corner, the sound getting louder. Then the third Necro shot the corpse, and the clicking stopped. Did the thing see in BTUs?

Then Mask-face looked straight at the others, and a thrill of alarm went down my spine. Imam leapt out with a shout and took off, the gun-toting Necro giving chase, as well as a half-armored one that had been trailing the main group. When they were gone, I jumped out and put a stiletto in the neck of the one with the handheld. He dropped like a stone, his spine severed cleanly. Riddick took the masked one, twisting its head around until its neck snapped.

"Get them to the ship and lay low until we get there," I told Jackie. She nodded.

"I'll break out the board games," she replied. With Ziza in her arms, she headed off, Lajjun trailing behind her.

As we tracked the Imam and the Necros—the one with less armor was rather distinctive, wielding an oddly-shaped axe and having a knife stuck in the back left shoulder of his scarred armor—I could hear a nearby spaceport's announcement system.

"Flight leaders, get all squads off the ground, now! We have heavy inbound!" 'A little late for that,' I thought, if there were any fighters left there. Maybe the horn was on automatic, repeating the last message.

We found Imam, but we both knew before we saw him that it was too late. He was saying something to the Necro he was apparently facing.

"There will be an afterlife for me. Will there be one for you?" I winced. Poor pacifistic priest, trying to talk down a fanatic. I flinched at the wet 'thump' of a body hitting distant pavement. Then it was followed by the thud of a pair of boots, sounding like the Necro had jumped down after the body. When he could be heard walking away, we rushed to the overpass where we'd heard them.

There, among a few small puddles of blood, lay the talisman Abu had been wearing. I looked over the edge to see Knife-Boy walking out of the plaza below, and then down at my friend's corpse. He looked oddly peaceful, though his legs were twisted the wrong way. I groped for Riddick's hand.

"We'll light a candle for him later," my mate assured me. He knew the customs of many religions, oddly. I'd never thought much about it. Before we left, he stooped to pick up the necklace, tucking it safely into a pocket of his cargo pants. We would make sure that Lajjun got it back.


	4. Chapter 4

Once again, large sections drawn directly fromthe movie. I swear, I've watched it five times in two weeks. Plus I found a sort of confusing script, which helped me put the right words in people's mouths. The combat bits are doable, with the right training and knowledge.

**Sight**

A _Chronicles of Riddick_ Alternate Universe

Chapter Four

The two of us trailed the Necromongers for the rest of the night, waiting for our opportunity to avenge Abu. We wouldn't, _couldn't_, leave until Knife-Boy was toast. Finally, much of the city's population—or those who hadn't actively resisted the invasion—was herded into a massive open-air amphitheatre as the sun rose in the sky.

A procession of Necromongers entered, many armored, but also with a group wearing semi-normal looking clothes and kilos of shiny metal ornaments. In the lead was the man from my dream, the Lord Marshal. He stood on the platform in the middle, while one of the most decorated Necros paced around the base of it.

"In this 'Verse," the lean, pale Necro began, "life is antagonistic to the natural state. Here, humans, in all their various races, are a spontaneous outbreak, an unguided mistake." A disquieted murmur ran through the crowd. "Our purpose is to correct that mistake. Because there is another 'Verse, a 'Verse where life is welcomed and cherished, a ravishing, ever-new place called Underverse. But the road to that 'Verse crosses over the Threshold."

"**Threshold! Take us to the Threshold!"** the gathered soldiers chanted. Such a level of fanaticism was almost nauseating.

"What you call… death," the Lord Marshal added. More mutters rose.

"So it is this 'Verse that must be cleansed of life, that Underverse can populate and prosper," the pale man continued. There was even more restlessness in the crowd now.

"Look around you," said the Lord Marshal condescendingly. "Every Necromonger in this hall, every one of the legion vast that swept aside your defenses in just one night, was once like you. Fought as feebly as you. Every Necromonger that lives today is a convert."

"There'll be no conversions!" cried a woman.

"We all began as something else!" Pale-Boy shouted, overpowering the crowd's outrage. "It was hard for me to accept, too, when I heard these words. But I changed, I let them take away my pain…"

"You betrayed your faith!" someone else declared.

"…just as you will change when you realize that the Threshold to the Underverse will be crossed only by those who have embraced the Necromonger faith." I couldn't help but scowl. Pain was the proof that you were truly _alive_, whether you liked to feel it or not. "Those of you who will, right now, drop to your knees and ask to be purified." To their credit, not a single New Meccan did so.

"We will not renounce our faith!" Funny, that was Shorty, Aereon's little buddy.

"No one here will do what you ask," added a man from beside him. The guy moved to a set of stairs, talking as he walked. "It is unthinkable! This is a world of many peoples, many religions!" Yeah, and it was a wonder that they'd managed to coexist peacefully, in my opinion. "And we simply cannot, and _will_ not, be converted!" By now, he was all but in Pale-Boy's too-calm face. Then the Lord Marshal stalked over to him, and ghostly arms plunged into the man's stomach and pulled as Mr. Head Honcho walked by. A colorless, translucent copy of the man was pulled away. His body spun and gaped.

"Then I'll take your soul." The wispy image of the man was torn apart, dissipating into nothing, and his body slumped to the ground, clearly dead, yet utterly unmarked. "Join him, or join me." The crowd began dropping to their knees, first just a few, then more and more. Riddick and I stood firm, shoulder to shoulder, even as a Necro with a skull on his helmet strode up to us.

"This is your one chance," he told us silkily. "Take the Lord Marshal's offer and bow."

"I bow to no man," my mate stated calmly. I leaned into him, wordlessly showing who I stood with. The Necromonger removed his helm to reveal a handsome but cold face framed by a thick mane of black hair. The sides were shaved, but the top flowed neatly toward the back of his skull.

"He is not a man," the Necro countered. "He's the holy Half-Dead who has seen the Underverse." OK, another raving fanatic. Yay.

"Look, we're not with everyone here," was the response, my man's posture clearly indicating that I was included in that 'we.' "But I _will_ take a piece of him." He pointed, and I followed the finger to see Knife-Boy, with two axes this time.

"A piece you will have," the Necro conceded with a smirk. I stepped back with my own, leaving Riddick ample space to move, as Knife-Boy stepped up. He started out with a horizontal sweep at chest height, one axe following the other. My mate leaned back just far enough for them to miss, throwing his cloak off dramatically. That was followed with a diagonal stroke, with a bias toward the vertical, avoided by a twisting roll. Riddick popped up behind the guy and yanked the knife from his shoulder before dodging another attempt to hit him. Then he jabbed, once, twice, a third time up under the breastplate before heaving the corpse down the steps.

Even as he turned back toward me, another soldier put a hand on my shoulder from behind and tried to force me to my knees. What did he think I was, a hothouse flower? I twisted, drawing another of my many knives—this one with a broad, flat, double-edged blade—and used the momentum to drive the steel through his windpipe and out the back of his neck. I felt the tip slide between the vertebrae and let go, knowing that he would never threaten another person. Riddick stepped up to me, and we turned to leave. Imam had been avenged, and we had no further business here.

"Stop them!" the Lord Marshal called, and a dozen men blocked our path, guns drawn. I turned to look and found the man in charge pulling the knife from Knife-Boy-s gut with a little grunt. He came right up to my mate. "Irgun. One of my best." Why the hell was he telling us who the guy had been?

"If you say so." The doubt in the words was unmistakable.

"What do you think of this blade?" He handed it over. I watched carefully as it was spun around the broad hand I knew so well, first counter-clockwise, then clockwise. Then a flat spin on top of the palm, clockwise, ending with the hilt toward the Lord Marshal.

"Heavy on the back end," I observed casually.

"By half a gram," Riddick confirmed, handing it back.

"In our faith, you keep what you kill." The Lord Marshal wrapped his hand over my man's, then tried to make him take the knife. There was a brief struggle, more him pushing against an immovable object, before a puzzled expression crept onto his face. "Are you familiar to me?" he asked. "Have we met on some distant field?" It hit me then, that _this_ foul being had killed Riddick's mother, torn him from her womb, and tried to strangle him as a helpless infant. I saw red, but fisted my hands to keep from acting prematurely.

"You'd think I'd remember," the big guy purred.

"You'd think I would, too." The Necromonger turned away. "Take them before the Quasi-Deads." As soldiers stepped toward us, our backs met and I prepared to draw my favorite daggers.

"Perhaps the breeders would do it," a feminine voice called, "if somebody just asked them." A woman with coffee-colored skin stepped through the rank-and-file, putting her hand over the gun held by Dark-And-Chilly. Then she touched my mate's arm, and I almost gave in to the urge to rip her apart, to see what color she bled under that slinky gold-scaled dress. "It is a rare honor, a visit inside Necropolis." Her voice was laden with false honey.

"Back off, bitch," I snarled as she leaned closer to him. "He's _mine_." She stepped back with a poison smile, reeking of lust, and took the arm of Dark-And-Chilly. They walked by, and then a gun was pushed into my shoulder. I turned swiftly, catching the hand that held the weapon, turning it and shoving the muzzle under the wielder's chin. My index finger slipped over his and tightened on the trigger ever so slightly. "Touch me again and die." Then I cast looks at all the others around me. "That goes for all of you. Only warning."

They did back up a step, but we were still herded toward the largest ship on the ground. Riddick and I looked at each other when the doors boomed closed behind us and cut off a great deal of the light. I felt my eyes change just as the snaky bitch looked at us.

"Such beautiful eyes," she murmured, looking at him only. I bared my teeth at her, definitely _not _smiling, and she flinched before taking the lead again.

"Come." She sounded like she was talking to a pair of fucking _dogs_. "The last six Lord Marshals have called this home. Magnificent, isn't it?" We both looked around.

Human-shaped statues of various sizes littered the space we could see, titanic ones supporting upper levels. Some were in poses of obvious torment. High above, a ship moved from one side to the other, shadows being sucked into it with a peculiar 'whump-whump-whump' sound. At the other end of the room we were in, an ornate throne stood atop a dais, flanked by twisting cones, light gleaming off of rows of blades protruding from them.

"I might have gone a different way," Riddick said. His shades hung around his neck, mine tucked into the neck of my tank top. Neither of us was particularly bothered by the ambient light levels; his eyes had gotten better since we'd met, as he was now able to see a few strong colors. I kept most of my attention on the Necromongers surrounding us.

We were guided around the throne and through a pair of ornate openwork doors. Pale-Boy followed us in, apparently the only one brave enough to even come close to touching us after my display with Snake-Bitch, and he directed Riddick onto a raised pad.

The room was hexagonal, the other five sides occupied with arched panels that had a bit of open space around the sides. The pad likewise was sectioned into six teardrop shapes, each glowing a pale purple. He stood in the center, and I to the left of the doors, as Pale-Boy moved to leave the chamber. The Necro paused just briefly next to me, our eyes meeting, and heat flared on my breast—right where I'd been marked by the woman in my dream. My eyes darted down, then back up when there was no glow, to find Pale-Boy's eyes widening almost comically. Odd. Then the doors were closed behind him, and he reached for something, probably controls, on the right side of them.

The platform under my mate made a 'zoom' noise as it lit up, and the knife that he'd been holding loosely zipped downwards, as though under high gravity. A moment later, he crashed down, catching himself with one knee up and both hands braced against the pad.

"A new one," unseen voices murmured in stereo. "You brought us a new one." They sounded satisfied, even eager, as the five panels ground into motion. They tilted down toward the center of the room, revealing that they were pods of some sort, each holding a writhing, shrouded human-like form and two hanging bowls of black fluid. Their tips touched the platform and stopped.

"Making entry," the voices said, each bowl of fluid rippling with the sounds. "This won't take long." My mate grunted, a sound that evidenced both his struggle to remain as erect as he was and the pain he felt from whatever these things were doing. "We've entered his neo-cortex."

What the hell?! They were rooting around in his _brain_? Motherfuckers!

"Ah, the Riddick," they whispered. So much for anonymity.

"Regress." I looked up to see the Lord Marshal in a gallery above, as well as others including Dark-And-Chilly and Snake-Bitch.

"Scanning fresh memories…. Thoughts of mate…" I could almost hear my own voice, talking to him. "Thoughts of someone called Jack…" He'd never called her Jackie; now I could hear her talking, too. Damn, I hoped she'd gotten Lajjun and Ziza safely to the ship and was doing as she'd damn well been told. "Now we find thoughts of an Elemental…"

"The one race that would slow the spread of Necromongers. Furyans," I heard Aereon say. How in the hell…?

"Furyans." The voices echoed the word.

"Where does he come from?" the Lord Marshal demanded. I could hear his footsteps. Pacing. "_Who_ are his people? These are the things I need to know!" OK, so he's calling all the shots.

"We find energy…" Huh? "We find Furyan energy." Well, shit, we're in trouble now. "He's Furyan… Furyan… Furyan survivor!" Then I could hear _her_ voice, saying words she'd never said to me.

"Look at our world, at the graves of those who didn't escape thirty years ago. There is no future unless we settle our past… for all of us who bear the mark."

"Kill the Furyan!" the voices shouted. A bowl shattered, and the faces above retreated in favor of armed and armored soldiers. "Kill the Riddick!" Another bowl broke, and the voices began to chant the phrase. A soldier landed in front of me, and I kicked his knee the wrong way before snapping his neck. The rush of adrenaline made it feel like I had broken nothing more substantial than a twig.

Movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention, and I looked right to see Pale-Boy wink at me through the door and reach for those controls again. Then the pad was off, and Riddick rose with a roar, grabbing a Necro with a gun and slinging him across his shoulders before using the gun to take out others.

I'd killed two more before he dropped the corpse, keeping the gun as he retreated toward a withdrawing pod. He kept firing as I dove past him and came up in a roll, my mate riding the pod as the gap closed. Drably-attired Necros were already scrambling away, and we began to run.


	5. Chapter 5

Point-of-view changes ahead. Locations underlined so you can't miss them. More explanation on the Furyan Shine. Mercs. Party time!

**Sight**

A _Chronicles of Riddick_ Alternate Universe

Chapter Five

Our route out of the Necropolis was contorted, but I trusted Riddick to lead me away as safely as he could. We tore between buildings once we reached open air, hoping to lose any pursuit in the tangle of streets. That hope was dashed within a few minutes, as a loud whumping rose behind us. There was no way we could outrun a ship!

An explosion boomed behind us, then a second, and a third. Metal groaned, and I looked back just in time to see the nose of the vessel following us plowing into the ground. Both of us brushed the ground with our fingertips as the shockwave nearly stole our balance. I scrambled, but then backpedaled as the ship flipped over us to crash into a block of buildings, upside-down and backwards. Six figures emerged from the shadows to surround us.

"Now _that_ was a sweet shot." I knew that voice all too well. Toombs.

"Let me guess," my mate said. "A six-man crew this time." A year ago, it had been Toombs and three cronies, and we'd wiped the floor with them.

"You know, it's fuckin' insultin'. First he brings four for just you, completely dismissing me an' the kid, and now six for both of us?" The merc sneered at me.

"Couple of things ya coulda done better," he said condescendingly. "First, be careful what ya say and where ya say it. Knew ya liked the holy man better than any of the others. And second, and this is really the more important part, dust my dick when ya get the chance. Any questions?"

"Yeah. What took ya so long?" Wait. Amusement, when we'd just been cornered by fuckin' _Toombs_?

'Oh, I see,' I thought as a female slapped cuffs on him. 'Let the mercs get us out of Necro territory, _then_ make a break for it.' He'd already gotten out of six slams, and that was by himself. What was another one to add to the list? I smirked at the broad when she moved to bind me, getting a scowl in return.

Their ship was a piece of shit, I decided as soon as I laid eyes on it. Probably didn't have much range at all. The inside proved more amusing; there was only one full lock-up seat, so only one of us would have their ankles restrained. Nowhere to jury-rig more, either. They chose the 'bigger threat' for the hot seat, leaving my legs free.

"In and out, unsuspected and undetected," chortled the fattest of the mercs. "Damn, I love a good smash-and-grab." In the air, and he wasn't even sitting down, let alone getting his safety harness on? If he got hurt, I was going to laugh so hard…

"Not so fast, not so fast. Dickheads," the broad muttered. "We're pickin' up fields here."

"Unknown fields detected on hull," said the feminine voice of the computer, confirming her guess.

"I knew it. Here it comes," the pilot worried aloud.

"I don't know, readin' our BTUs, maybe?" she responded.

"Let's drop one," Toombs directed.

"Dropping." There was a hissing, then I could just see a drone peel off to the right as we went left. The computer's readout showed the fields drop, then disappear.

"So, where do we drop your merc-killin' asses?" Toombs asked as the ship prepared for ion drive. He'd already stuck a cigar in his mouth. Celebrating a little early. "Butcher Bay?"

"Butcher Bay," Riddick repeated, rolling the name around in his mouth. "Ten minutes every other day on the dog run. Protein waffles aren't bad." He'd been there before.

"Hey, how 'bout Ursa Luna?" the merc came back. "Nice little double-max prison."

"They keep a cell open for me, just in case I drop in." Been there, too.

"You know the problem with these joints now?" Toombs asked his crew. "Health clubs for waffle-eatin' pussies." Watch who you call a pussy, boy. "Maybe we should think about uppin' our game here a little bit. Think about someplace truly diabolical."

"What the hell is he thinkin' now?" the broad complained. Seemed like she'd been through this shit before.

"He's thinkin' a triple-max prison, a no-daylight slam," I offered. Riddick picked up my thought.

"Only three left in the system, two of 'em out of range of a shitty little undercutter, like this one, with no legs. Leavin' just one: Crematoria. That _is_ what you had in mind, right, Toombs?"

"Hey, how does he know where we're goin' and we don't?" another merc protested.

"Dope it out," Toombs snapped, obviously not liking that we could read him so easily.

"I hate this run," the pilot griped.

"Just do it!" their 'leader' snapped.

"Don't know about this new crew of yours, Toombs. They seem a bit skittish," my man advised. There's nothing a merc hates more than advice from a payday.

"Probably shouldn't tell them what happened to the last crew," I added. Except when the payday's exactly right.

"You know, you're supposed to be some slick-shit killers," he said, getting up in Riddick's face as he took a drag on his cigar. "Now look at ya. All back-o-da-bus and shit." He blew the smoke in my mate's face, but didn't get so much as a wrinkled nose for his trouble.

As they strapped in for the flight, I shifted slightly in my seat. They hadn't taken a damned thing off me, nor from Riddick. We were both still well-armed, and we'd taken pains in the past to make sure that nobody could find all our weapons without a strip search. Not something that was likely to happen, not with Toombs running the show.

Then the cryo cuff bit. The drugs weren't even enough to make me slightly drowsy, and they certainly didn't immobilize me or my mate.

Helion Prime, Basilica, War Room

"I say we take Helion Two next," he heard one of the other commanders say as he returned from tracking the Furyan, his woman, and the breeders who'd stolen them right from under the fleet's very nose. "Take it straight into their teeth. It'll cost you twenty heads, five warrior ships, nothing more, I swear it." Cocky fool.

"While I do prize brute force," the Lord Marshal replied, gesturing at the modeling table, "This approach is perhaps more artful. Start at the end. Go straight to Helion Five, the last planet in the system. We approach from the night side. Remove these cannon first, then attack the other placements at speed." Taking a chance, Vaako turned and walked silently toward his leader. "We'll catch them on their rear flank, and in ten days' time, the rest of those worlds will tumble before us. You see, as with most, their blind spot…" A ghostly image of the Lord Marshal's face spun to look him straight in the eye. "…is right behind them."

Vaako forced his face to stillness before giving his report. "I've located an ion trail that leads off-world." Respect, but no title.

"Then you should _be_ off-world, Vaako." Interesting.

"I've deployed a tracker team, one of the best." Offer an appeasement.

"Wherever Riddick and his female have gone, you lens them out and cleanse them. _You._" More interesting. Was this a test of his loyalty, his obedience?

"You want me to take a frigate for two breeders?" Poke a hole in the rationality of this decision.

"Don't question it, Vaako!" The shout sent ripples through the modeling table. His next sentence was almost soft. "Take it on faith." With a nod of acquiescence, he turned and left the room.

Helion Prime, Basilica, Vaako Quarters

"He's always been unsettled around you," Dame Vaako mused as she tended to her eye. "The Lord Marshal. Unsteady." There was a long pause. "Perhaps it's because he knows he's half the warrior you are. Some say he's too artistic for the job." He peered at a viewing orb set in their wall. "I wouldn't be surprised if someone promoted him soon… to full dead."

Vaako glared at her. "Take care what you say." Her big mouth could get them both killed.

"Should I say it softly?" she whispered sarcastically.

"So it sounds more like conspiracy?" She almost threw her mirror onto the vanity before stalking toward him.

"Oh, _why_ is it that when anyone breathes about the demise of him on the throne, everyone assumes a conspiracy?!" She leaned against a side table, staring at him. "Why isn't that just… prudent planning?"

"When he is ready," he hissed back, "he will name a successor."

"Who?" she asked. "Toal? Scales? The _Purifier_?" The last was said with a half laugh, mockingly. Then she caressed his chest. "None of them with the strength, the dignity, of Lord Vaako." His wife almost breathed his name. "You can keep what you kill," she murmured.

"Stop." Stop this treacherous thought before it gets us killed.

"That _is_ the Necromonger way."

"I said, _stop_." He pushed her roughly against the table's edge. "His death will come in due time and not a moment sooner."

"Why?" she asked petulantly.

"It's called fidelity," he answered. He wondered if she even knew what the word meant, after her display earlier, so obviously lusting after the breeder, this Riddick.

"It's called stupidity," she countered. Vaako laughed. As soon as she was off-guard, he swung his arm, backhanding her across the face so hard that she hit the wall three meters away.

"Well, finally, some attention." She'd been goading him! Then she leapt on him, flailing and scratching like a wild animal until he slammed her upper body flat on the table. She sat up again, and their mouths crashed together. The change from anger to ardor was swift.

"You have such greatness in you," she whispered when they broke apart for air. "If only you could see it like I do." Then she had twisted around to stand behind him, licking his neck. "You know what I want?"

"Today I came up behind him in perfect silence, and he knew," Vaako mused.

"I want to go down in Necropolis, right now," she continued, ignoring him. Dame Vaako was insatiable when she got into this sort of mood.

"His half-dead soul sensed I was behind him," he told her. "He sees everything."

"When no one's looking," she whispered. "When no one's around, I'm gonna get down on my knees… while _you_ sit on the throne." Hmm, kinky. He let her lead him from their quarters, onto a balcony overlooking the throne, only for them to find the Lord Marshal there, a woman in white before him. Her form was indistinct about the edges.

"An Elemental," his wife whispered. "Here?"

"One of the captives," he murmured in her ear.

"And why, after thirty years, should it be you?" Zhylaw's voice echoed up to them.

"He doesn't regard her as a captive, though," Vaako mused. How odd.

"Elementals," the Dame scoffed. "They talk of neutrality, but they're all witches and spies. Why else would they come and go like the wind?"

"But where have they gone? Where is the Furyan hiding now?" the Lord Marshal demanded of the Elemental. His wife turned and placed a hand on his chest.

"You be the good warrior," she said. "Go after this Riddick and his female. I'll find out why the Lord Marshal is so threatened by them.." Finally, she'd seen sense. Now to find a frigate to take after the breeders.

En Route to Igneon System, Toombs' Undercutter

A spot of red-pink appeared, then grew until I was surrounded by graves. The woman was there again.

"Now what?" I asked her, ticked. "Who the fuck _are_ you, anyway?" Wait a minute, had I ever been able to talk to her before?

"I am Shirah," the woman said calmly, "Guide to all Furyans who bear the mark. A goddess, if you will. It is due to me that your mate has any silver in his eyes at all."

"_You_ fucked up his vision," I snarled. Did she have any idea what pain that silver had caused him?

"He needed the ability, desperately. You received it with your mother's milk. He was denied that, and so I had to give it to him. Even I am not perfect." Shirah stared out over the hills. "You will find help where you might least expect it."

"The pale one," I mused. "The one who made the mark burn."

"He, too, wears it. He desires vengeance upon the man he serves, the man who killed so many of mine. But there are still more who would help, were they given the opportunity."

"Lord Marshal's got it coming to him," I agreed. And then the vision was gone. The broad had cut her cryo and was leaning over Riddick, breathing in deeply as she moved over his chest, then lifting his shades. Then his eyes popped open and his knees trapped her as she tried to get away.

"You know, you grind your teeth at night. Sexy." The sarcasm dripping from his tone said it was anything but. I stretched out and placed my right boot firmly on her pelvis.

"Never touch what is mine," I warned. She squeaked. No kidding. And this was supposed to be a merc, a tough girl. Ha. "Get away from my man." Her scramble was gratifying, letting my leg drop over my man's thigh, where it slid right up to his crotch. The hard length that pressed against the back of my knee and thigh was even better. He hummed in pleasure and shifted his hips, so I hooked my leg and pulled.

"I'd help with that," I told him, "but I'm a little tied up."

"Minx," he responded. "Raincheck?"

"Oh yeah." I swung my leg back over, making sure I was in something close to my original posture so that the other mercs wouldn't think I'd moved.

"Destination reached," the computer chirped a little later. "Unlocking manual controls."

The broad moved to sit on the left side, just behind the pilot, and checked some readouts. "All right, I make seven hundred degrees on the day side, three hundred below on the night side." Riddick lifted up slightly, using a ridge in the structure next to his seat to push his sunglasses back down over his eyes.

"Let's not get caught in the sun," Toombs chuckled. "If I owned this place and hell, I'd rent this place out and live in hell." Idiot thought he was so funny.

"Blue angle, good," the computer told them.

"Stand by," the pilot added. "And…"

"Plotted course, good."

"Hit it!" he yelled, slamming the control yoke forward. The undercutter dove steeply.

"Angle of approach, not good," the computer said. No shit.

"Look, Ma, no hands!" the fat merc said, laughing. The four mercs strapped into the back seats were laughing, pretending they were having a good time. Then we hit the runway, and the sun crested the mountain to the right. The mercs gasped in pain as the rays hit them. It began to get uncomfortably warm. Then the hangar came into view.

"Party poppers!" the pilot yelled. The broad kicked a big red button across from where she sat, and something pulled hard from behind, killing a great deal of momentum and leveling the ship out a bit. We entered the hangar and hit its back wall with a little thump. I could hear the hull groan as it cooled.

"I think I shit myself," the fat one muttered. He looked green at the gills, too. I could smell both shit and urine. Little cowards.

"Skittish, Toombs, very skittish," my mate said, reminding the merc of his earlier estimate. The we were both slapped with a ridiculous amount of chains and marched down a set of stairs. Doors at the bottom slid open, revealing an old mining sled and a set of tracks.

The chains were rearranged, our feet fastened to a bar near the center of the sled, and our hands above our heads to a bar at the back end. Fatso sat on my man, and the skinniest perched on me, leaving the four seats for Toombs, the broad, the pilot, and a kid with a rat's nest for hair.

"Comfy?" Skinny asked me. My eyes narrowed behind my shades.

The sled started off slow, but soon got up to a respectable clip. Fatso leaned over, licking his fingers.

"When the ride's over," he told Riddick, wiping the lenses of his glasses, "Your shades are mine." Skinny seemed to think this was very funny. We looked at each other, silently agreeing that these two idiots _had_ to go. I felt his left boot begin to tap my right, timing the lights that passed overhead.

I felt the muscles in his arm tighten, and thrust my hips upwards. Skinny practically flew up, a light neatly clipping his head and sweeping him away. Fatso had met precisely the same fate. Then Toombs looked back at us. We both frowned and gave him 'Who, me?' shrugs. As he faced forward again, he laughed.

"Four-way split!" Greedy assholes.

The sled bumped to a halt a couple of minutes later. "Twenty-nine point four kilometers," my mate whispered in my ear. Nice distance for a run. I began wracking my brain for information on this planet, and there it was. The buffer zone between night and day, where it was warm enough to function but cool enough to prevent combustion was almost thirty-two point two kilometers. So a surface run to the hangar wasn't entirely out of the question. One avenue of escape plotted.

"So. This is Riddick and one of his women." The speaker was a dusky-skinned little man, who spat off to one side when he finished speaking. We were led into the prison proper and put in handcuffs, the chains fed through a large metal loop on the end of a winch cable. A large metal disc was pulled out of the floor's center, opening up a hole into the pit below. We were slowly lowered through it.

Crematoria, Prison Control Room

Toombs hit the lever and stopped the winch. "What in the bowels of Christ are you talkin' about, seven hundred and fifty K?"

"Don't take these two, Boss," said a heavy-set fellow from the bench press.

"See," explained the head warden, "Anatoli here has a nose for trouble. And these two, this Riddick and his woman…"

"Big, _big_ trouble," confirmed Anatoli.

"So, seven hundred fifty is good money." The warden turned the winch back on.

"The guild pays us a caretaker's fee for each prisoner, each year," reasoned a bald man who was shelling pistachios. "We pay mercs twenty percent of that fee, based on a certain life expectancy." He popped one of the nuts into his mouth.

"How's about this," Toombs suggested, seeing Crash edge toward the winch controls again. "You open that safe you got hidden behind the console there, show me the real books, _then_ we figure out my cut. Then I'll be on my way."

The warden kicked the false front closed. "Open my books. This is what you suggest?" He sounded offended, of all things.

"Wasn't a suggestion." And Crash turned the winch off again. The warden got out two shot glasses and a bottle of clear liquid—some sort of hooch, probably—and filled the glasses as he spoke.

"These are… dangerous days, if you believe the talk." Toombs took the glass he was offered, but didn't drink.

"Talk?"

"About dead planets, about some… ghost army." Guy sounded spooked. "About _Them_."

"'Them?'" Best to play dumb, act like you don't know nothin'. The warden tossed back his drink.

"I'll run the numbers again. It takes a couple of days, probably. So, you can stay as my guest. At least here, we are all safe, yes?" He spread his hands, acting all welcoming and shit.

"Yes, boss," Anatoli affirmed. Brownnoser.

"I'll give it a day," the merc compromised. Then he tipped the drink down the hole and tossed the glass at the warden. "One."


	6. Chapter 6

Here we go again. In the movie, Riddick used the laws of physics to get himelf off the winch cable. Here, well, it's not so much using laws as breaking them. Oh, and smut ahoy. The one bit of smut in the entire story. I'm not too good at writing smut, but... Guv's real name comes from the pitcherblacker website's character list. Enjoy!

**Sight**

A _Chronicles of Riddick_ Alternate Universe

Chapter Six

"I'd take the money, Toombs!" I'd yelled the first time the winch stopped. The second time, I let the bounce assist me in pulling myself up and through Riddick's arms. They'd strung us up back to back, which was a mistake on their part. I settled my weight on his shoulders, his face in my crotch.

"Mmm, nice view," he quipped before nuzzling me. A shiver of pleasure rippled up my spine, and I smacked his head lightly.

"Behave. We can play later." There was enough room in the chain for me to reach my belt buckle and the lock picks hidden inside it. It took less than two minutes to unlock both of my cuffs. "Grab the cable," I ordered, and my man shifted until his hands were grasping the loop that held our manacles. Then he was free, too, and I looked down. About five meters to the ground for him, closer to seven for me. "Ready?"

"Go." As he relinquished his grip on the cable, I flung my body backwards, flipping away from him. I managed a full somersault and a half-turn before I landed in a feline crouch, one dagger already out of its sheath. Then I was in motion, giving the 'welcome wagon' a greeting they certainly didn't like. Five died by my hand; I didn't take the time to count up my mate's kills.

"There are inmates, and there are convicts." My attention snapped to a bearded man walking down a set of stairs. "A convict has a certain code, and he knows to show a certain respect." He gave my bare, bloodied blades an unreadable look. "An inmate, on the other hand, pulls the pin on his fellow man. Does the guards' work for them. Brings shame…" He lashed out and kicked a welcomer who hadn't died already, snapping the man's neck. "… to the game. So, which are you two gonna be?" The guy looked almost cheerful. Weird.

"Us? We're just passin' through," Riddick replied before walking away. I stayed with him, our steps matching.

"So, Plan B we run the surface, stay ahead of the sun. What's Plan A?" I wanted to see what his quick mind had come up with.

"Storm that control room, kill or disable the guards and mercs, and take the tunnel to the hangar. Jam the doors so they can't follow."

"I get the feeling we'll be using Plan B." I looked up, considering the situation. "Toombs wants more than they're willing to give him, and it's probably gonna blow up in his face."

"Yeah."

Necromonger Frigate

Vaako stood on the bridge, gazing at the three viewing orbs that showed the space around the ship. The Purifier's steps entered the room; the man walked differently from the soldiers. Why the Lord Marshal had sent his chief Purifier after two breeders was beyond him.

"They can be quite a test, these deep runs," the blond said casually. "A test of our inner selves. Don't you find that true?" Not hard to decipher who was supposed to be the one tested: Vaako himself.

"Some men do," he replied noncommittally.

"Just being so far from the armada, the mind can start to fill with… strange thoughts. Doubts. Don't you ever have doubts, Vaako?" Subtle? This wasn't subtle at all. He had a reputation for subtlety, so this must be intentional. But what was his goal with this line of questioning? Vaako swallowed before he answered.

"Doubts?"

"About the campaign, about Lord Marshal." Ah. Looking for treason.

"First and always," he said, turning on the Purifier with heat in his voice, "I am a Necromonger Commander. So if you're here to test my loyalty, you succeed only in testing my patience." There, let him suck on that.

"Oh, no. That's not why I'm here at all." Vaako stared at the man's back as he left. Now what did he mean by that?

Helion Prime

Chains and weights clanked down the steps in her wake as she was herded toward the small transport that hovered in front of the Basilica. The moment she set foot on the smaller vessel, the guards moved to release her as a female Necromonger approached.

"I'm so glad I could steal you away for a moment," she said, poison dripping from her voice. The ship rose, and the doors closed. "Doesn't it strike you odd? Here we have the current Lord Marshal, destroying entire societies, and yet he can't bring himself to kill _one_ stranded Elemental." Aereon had to wonder where this woman was going with the conversation. "Why is that? You don't pray to our god. You pray to _no_ god, I hear."

"Elementals," she responded, "we calculate."

"Hmm, don't we all." She sounded amused. "But now let's have first things first. What of Riddick?" Was that a genuine note of curiosity?

"In truth, I don't know where he went."

"In truth, I'm more interested in where he came from." Ahh. Then the woman opened a trap door, and she had to step back quickly. "Watch your step." It was said so condescendingly that it set Aereon's teeth on edge. "I've always wondered, does an Air Elemental fly?" The woman took a wide, bladed weapon from a rack. "Now, do me a favor. Calculate the odds of you getting off this planet alive, and now cut them in _half_!" With the last word, the weapon was thrust at her, and she glided across the void in the floor.

"No, we can't fly. But we glide very well." In fact, gliding was _fun_. "Save your threats, Necromonger. I would have told you about Riddick for the asking." Now to plant the seeds of discord against Zhylaw. "It concerns a foretelling, a prediction now more than thirty years old. A young warrior once consulted a Seer. He was told a child would be born on the planet Furya, a male child, who would someday cause the warrior's downfall." She saw the lights go on, the Necromonger realizing what had happened and why, and smiled to herself when the pilot was told to return them to the Basilica.

Basilica Communications Center and Frigate Communications

"… cause his un-timed death," she told the Quasi-Dead that was transmitting to her husband.

"A Furyan?" he replied, a note of confusion in his voice. "Furya is a ruined world. No life to speak of." Vaako paced in front of the Quasi-Dead.

"With good reason," his Dame responded. "This young warrior mounted an attack on Furya, killing all young males he could find, even… strangling some with their birth cords." How disgusting. "An artful stroke, wouldn't you say?" She _had _said that some considered the Lord Marshal to be too much so.

"So this young warrior, the one who tried to outwit the prediction, would later become…"

"_That's_ why he worries." It all made sense now. A disturbing sort of sense, but…

"…Lord Marshal. Which would make the man-child…"

"He worries he missed killing that child in its crib," Dame Vaako crooned.

"…Riddick. That's why it's so vital to him—"

"Wait," she told him.

"It's about a prophecy."

"Wait, wait!" He shut up for a moment. Had someone walked by on the Basilica, someone who shouldn't hear their conversation?

"Are you there?"

"You do what your lord asks," she directed. Oh, how he hated when she did that, telling him what to do! "You cleanse Riddick for him, and in doing so, you prove your undying loyalty." But was Zhylaw _deserving_ of that loyalty? "And perhaps then he'll finally let down his guard."

As he pushed the Quasi-Dead back into its niche in the wall, his mind raced. Did she mean to have him challenge the Lord Marshal once Riddick was dead, and no longer any threat? He _had_ to get a shorter leash on that woman, or she would get them both killed.

Crematoria, the Pit

"Still here, I see?" the bearded man said to us a couple of hours later. We'd actually been looking for a place where we wouldn't be disturbed for a while, but that didn't seem to be in the cards… yet. For two people with as active a sex life as we had, this was torture. It had been _days_, for god's sake!

"I've been here for eighteen years," the man boasted. Then he moved a ring on his left hand out where we could see the broad slivery band. "See this? I remember how gorgeous she was." He paused. "Well, gorgeous in a certain light." Ah, beer goggles. And he'd gotten married to a beer-goggles woman? Poor man. "And now, for the goddamned _death_ of me, I cannot remember her name."

Jesus. Forgot his wife's name. Even if she _was_ a beer-goggles woman, that was not good. Meant he'd begun to lose his sense of self.

"Feeding Time!" The tinny speakers scattered through the prison blared, and all hell seemed to break loose. Convicts running every which way, trying to lock themselves in somewhere. So what was getting fed, that it scared them so much?

"We're here for the rest of our unnatural lives," the man said almost gleefully. He turned to go, then looked back briefly. "Whatever you do, don't make eye contact." My mate and I shared a long look, then found ourselves a semi-secure spot.

So we perched on a ledge in front of a set of bars, a waterfall between us and the nearest walkway. Several creatures of some sort were now prowling the Pit, and a few prisoners had fallen prey to them. A shadow crossed the waterfall, the vague shape seeming felinoid to me. Catlike, the size of a lion or tiger, maybe. It appeared to be a dark gray in color. Once it had passed, I looked at Riddick again. We both took off our shades, and I felt my eyes change in the dim light.

I nearly jumped when the head came through the waterfall. It _was_ feline-shaped, but covered in scales, not fur. Scales that changed color and bristled like fur, I realized when it growled at us. My man got right up in its face, staring into its silvered eyes. Eyes like ours, I thought. What if these, these hellcats were from Furya, too?

Riddick's challenge for dominance was over fairly quickly, and the hellcat turned to me. I didn't let myself blink, or even twitch, until it—she—averted her gaze.

She had been the most dominant until now, I knew somehow. _We_ had just become the leaders of the pride, and they would do as we chose. I swung over to the more stable walkway. The hellcat—her tag was number five—rubbed against my leg, purring loudly. I didn't know that cats that big _could_ purr.

We had to move to the largest platform in the network of scaffolding after a few minutes, as all six of the hellcats surrounded us. I saw awed faces peering through the bars from time to time. Occasionally, one of the 'cats would respond by going red and snapping at the offending prisoner.

The pride left reluctantly when a buzzer went off, and I found myself facing the man who'd greeted us. I held a hand to my brow, casting a good shadow over my eyes, and felt the change. He started violently.

"It's an animal thing," my mate rumbled. The guy looked rather impressed.

Ten minutes later, the guards surged through. Four of them cornered me, backing me into one of the deeper caves. I stepped backwards smoothly, my hands in the air. When I hit the wall, I reluctantly turned.

"Check her for me," said one of the guards. "Bet she's got a blade somewhere, since she's still in one piece." Right, real brave guys these were. One stepped up behind me, but before he could touch me, I flexed my toes just so, triggering the razor-sharp blades that I'd rigged in the toes and heels of my boots a few months ago.

My first kick gave the guard a complimentary vasectomy. Then I hit him with the sole, throwing him away from me. Another guard moved in, swinging a sort of metal sledgehammer. I wasn't quite quick enough; the solid weight clipped my ribcage and knocked the breath out of me. And then they were on top of me, one trying to choke me with the handle of his hammer.

"I don't think she likes being touched." Riddick's low rumble startled the guards so badly that they jumped off of me. I was glad to see him, don't get me wrong, but his timing could have been better. And was he drinking goddamned _tea_? "If I was you, I'd take my wounded and go, while you still can."

A lean but muscled black man sauntered up to him. "Is there a _name_ for this private little world of yours, huh?" he asked. "What happens there when we don't just… run away? You'll kill us? With a soup cup?" The other guards laughed.

"Tea, actually." Damn him! It _was_ tea, and he didn't appear to have any for me!

"Whazzat?" the black guy asked.

"I'll kill you with my _tea_ cup," my mate clarified, draining said cup and placing it upside-down on a rock. These guys were such idiots.

Black turned his back on us, whispering to Baldie. They probably thought we couldn't hear them.

"You know the rule," said Black.

"They aren't dead if they're still on the books," was Baldie's reply. Black slipped a knife from its sheath; looked like military issue, almost. Then he spun.

Quick as an adder, Riddick picked the cup back up, slammed it on another rock to split the rim, and thrust it into the center of Black's chest. Then he twisted it, just a quarter-turn, and Black fell to the floor, dead, knife rolling out of his suddenly limp hand. The other guards didn't seem to know what to do, looking back and forth between their dead buddy and his killer. Then a twisted piece of heavy-gauge wire was held up and placed on the same rock.

They didn't wait for an invitation, fleeing instead, the one I'd kicked being supported by the others.

"Death by teacup," I mused, squatting down and removing the cup with a hard tug. "Damn. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Not playing 'Who's The Better Killer' right now, Eileen." The gleam in his eye and tone of his voice told me he was cashing in that raincheck. No one could see us from outside the cave, and from the way those guards left, we weren't likely to be disturbed for a while.

Our lips met in a bruising kiss as my mate grabbed my ass and squeezed. I kept one hand on his smooth scalp—he'd found something to shave with, apparently, some sort of soap or something, since he still used his own shivs to shave with—and slowly moved the other down his chest until it slipped under his waistband. I could feel his cock jutting against my hip and moved to stroke it.

As quick as that, he turned me around where I couldn't reach him. His teeth worried at the junction of my neck and shoulder while his hands undid my pants. One finger slipped inside me, then a second, and I arched into the intimate touch. I fumbled behind my back, trying to get at his fly, but he beat me to it, and I felt his length slide along the crack of my ass. I pushed back, and his free hand tightened on my hip.

"Too long," I heard him mutter, and I couldn't agree more. His knees spread mine wide, and I leaned forward, one hand on the wall. Then I gasped as he slid home in one long stroke, and we both stilled. He was controlling himself, making sure that it was as good for me as it was for him, as usual.

'Fuck gentle,' I thought, and deliberately flexed around his dick. He growled and bit me, enough to leave a mark but not break the skin. I did it again, and then he was pumping into me hard and fast. His fingers found my clit and began to knead it. My breath came in shorter and shorter gasps, until I was falling apart around him. His orgasm followed within seconds, buried deep in my core.

That was far from the end, though. Riddick tended to rebound fast, and this was no exception. I could have sworn that I came at least five times before we'd exhausted ourselves. We ended up in a tangle on the ground, barely awake. We couldn't sleep here, though, not both of us at the same time. Once we'd caught our breath, we started gathering our clothes and dressing.

"Much better," I murmured before we left the cave. And it was; rather than being sore from wrenched limbs and strained joints, I was pleasantly sore from rough sex and love bites. My shoulder bore the clear imprint of his teeth, starkly purple against my skin. It was an open claim, like putting on a sign that said 'don't touch.' Anyone who tried something with me now deserved to be eliminated from the gene pool.

Outside, the bearded fellow was waiting with food—and obviously warning off curious onlookers.

"Should we send in a cleanup crew?" he asked as he handed us plates. Yeah, four guards go in, three come out, and nothing else for ages? I nodded and started shoveling the nondescript food stuff into my mouth. "Ceryll Cantaglia," he said, holding out a hand. "Better known here as the Guv."

"Nice to meet ya," I muttered through a mouthful as I shook his hand. There was a loud groaning noise, and we all looked up to see the guards' control room rise. Clouds became visible, swirling up to several vents that had been hidden and being sucked out.

"So they do go topside," Riddick mused. "To swap out air. Interesting." That meant Plan B was workable. Then he pulled one of his boot knives.

"How the hell did you manage to get in here with blades on you?" Guv asked curiously.

"Toombs is a cocky bastard," I replied. "Never even thought to check us." I pulled one of my daggers halfway out of its sheath, just enough to show him what it was.

"God help me, I could have used something like that years ago," he grumbled. "Then I wouldn't be stuck here."

"I'm sure God has his tricks, but getting out of places no one else can?" My mate shrugged. "That's one of mine."

"Who the hell are you?" Guv asked. All he got was a cocked eyebrow. After another minute or so of silence, Riddick spoke again.

"When it happens, it'll happen fast," he advised. "Stay on our leg when we cut fence or stay here… for the rest of your unnatural life."

"Nobody outs this place," Guv protested. "Nobody." The big guy had already started climbing one of the walls, probably looking for a safe ledge where we could get a little sleep.

"He ain't nobody," I told the skeptical convict. "Getting out really is his specialty. Six places already, and this'll be number seven."

"You're that sure of him?"

"You better believe it." And then I followed Riddick up the wall.


	7. Chapter 7

More from Toombs, and finally the escape. The fact that Eileen can apparently talk to the hellcats is a hint as to their origin, at least the origins I've decided upon. The Purifier's part is in a different order from the movie, but that's on purpose. And of course, there's the Big Bang. ;)

**Sight**

A _Chronicles of Riddick_ Alternate Universe

Chapter Seven

Toombs strode into the control room, feeling good about himself, with Eve, Meeko, and Crash following him. The warden looked up at him.

"Good news first." Uh-oh, that meant there was bad news. He hoped it wasn't _too_ bad. "Talked things over with my amigos here. We'll cut you in for eight hundred fifty K." He grinned and clapped his hands together in anticipation of all that lovely money.

"Well, all right. What's the bad news, they closed the local whorehouse?" He laughed at his own joke. Like they had a whorehouse on this miserable rock.

"No." The warden's clipped denial sobered him quickly. "The bad news is worse than that." _Then_ Toombs noticed the open safe, and the guard shoving documents and certificates into a bag. "Our pilot, he saw this." A slim reader was slapped against his stomach. The picture on it was a pretty purple nebula. "It crossed a shipping lane." He hit the zoom once, spotted an odd speck, and zoomed again. Oh hell. "Any… _idea_ what this might be?" OK, bluff 'em.

"Never saw nothin' like it."

"That ship tracks back to Helion Prime." Double shit. "You know, Anatoli's got a nose for trouble, and he thinks trouble follows you." The warden patted the man's cheek fondly.

"Look, we dusted our tracks and got the hell outta there." They had to get away before that ship got here. "There is no _way_ we didn't lose them."

"'_Them_?'" Oops.

"This is my prisoner. _Mine_. Nobody else's. And I want my money now." Gotta get outta here. Quickly.

"So," the warden hissed. "You stole a prisoner… from _Them_?!" Toombs reacted, lashing out and catching the warden's chin with his fist. Then the bullets began to fly from all directions, and he went for the only place he couldn't be hit.

Down the hole.

Crematoria, the Pit

The gunshots drew everyone's attention, fast. Then Toombs came sliding down the cable, and I laughed at him.

"Shoulda taken the money, Toombs," Riddick chided, shaking his head and grinning. The merc had stopped at our eye level, and he looked like a toddler that had just had his toys taken away. The fire above tapered off, and when it fell silent, familiar hands settled on my hips.

"Here comes company," I told Toombs, grinning from ear to ear.

"No. Riddick! Nooo!" I sailed into the merc's chest, grabbing his vest so I wouldn't fall. Then I started to climb.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," I said. "You'll never get this close to me again." I'd risen another couple of meters when the cable swung again and Toombs grunted. A glance down told me that my mate had followed me.

The control room was dark when I got there, two blinking blue lights and random sparks providing the only light. At least four bodies lay in the immediate vicinity, including the other two male mercs. While Riddick hauled himself up, I hit the switch that unlocked the gates that led down to the Pit. Several prisoners swarmed up, including Guv.

"Mercs," one of them said derisively. "Some guards here, but this can't be all of them."

"Check the slots in the back," Guv directed. "And be careful."

"Don't bother." Everyone turned to look at my man as he dropped a vid screen on a cable. "Guards ain't there. They figured out the Necros are comin' for us." The others looked at me, too. "Plan was to clean the bank, ghost the mercs, break wide through the tunnel. And then somebody got a lucky shot off with this rocket launcher," he explained, toeing the weapon. I winced. "And took out the sled. Guards took off on foot but rigged the door so no one could follow. They'll take the one ship in the hangar, and leave everyone else here to die." Then Toombs' head appeared in the hole.

"How come you know all this shit?" he asked. "You weren't even here." He got fixed with a glare.

"'Cause it was _my_ plan," came the retort. "So we're gonna have to go with hers: surface run to the hangar."

I rolled my eyes when someone began to question my sanity, instead grabbing the back of Toombs' vest and hauling him in the direction of the faint growls I heard. There was an extra cage in the kennel, I noticed, smaller than what any of the hellcats would put up with. I threw the merc in there and let two of the 'cats harass him while I crouched in front of Five.

-Leave?- came her thought. –New leaders leaving?- She was so saddened by the idea that her scales went almost black.

-Pride leave,- I thought back. –Pride leave _with_ new leaders, with leader of Others.- That was how they thought of the convicts, as 'Others.' -Not hunt Others that run with Pride from hole-in-ground.-

-Yes!- she replied joyfully, her scales lightening. –Pride come! Pride leave Others, not hunt.- I smiled, then began opening the enclosures. The six creatures surged around me, all trying to touch me at once.

"Twenty-nine point four kilometers to the hangar," Riddick was saying as I returned to the control room. "The buffer zone is thirty-two point two kilometers. It's doable." He looked at the temperature gauge, which was just getting into the bearable range.

"It's moving in the right direction," Guv confirmed. "Stay behind the night, ahead of the sun."

"There's gonna be one speed: mine," my mate stated. "If you can't keep up, don't step up. You'll just die." Several cons turned back down the stairs.

"We'll need water," I told the remaining six. "Rope, too. The hellcats are coming with, but they've promised not to eat you." This drew startled, incredulous looks until Five brushed against the back of my legs. "Let's get to it." We raided the guards' stores, finding water packs with sipper hoses, a large coil of rope, and ammo to go with the dead men's weapons. The broad had been injured in the fight, but there was no way she'd make it. She was out cold.

With the Pride sniffing the convicts that would be running with us, Riddick activated the lift system, and we rose. Thanks to the firefight, one window was easy to break away, and we all piled out onto the surface, one prisoner staying behind to return the control room to its usual position.

The rest of us—me, Riddick, Guv, and four other guys—were off then. We nearly got separated in a maze of cracks, but Five stayed on my man's scent and got us through. There were vast fields of cooled magma, and a huge ash cloud ahead. For a moment, I thought I saw something pop up in the distance. Maybe the guards in their tunnel, checking for pursuit?

Ash collected in my hair and streaked my skin with black as I ran. Riddick, far ahead of the rest of us, jumped onto a suspiciously regular shape, holding a length of cable attached to the head of one of the guards' hammers. Then the shape rose, and he began swinging his makeshift mace in ever-faster circles. Heads appeared in the space between the hatch and the cover. Heads and guns. A burst of gunfire killed one of the cons. I raised a pistol, then watched as the flail slammed into one guard's face. I fired at the other, but he ducked too quickly, and I vented with a strangled scream. That had been one of the ones who'd cornered me.

"What the fuck was that?" the big man asked as I drew closer to him. "You suicidal or somethin'?"

"No," I retorted, "but that was one of the sick fucks who wanted to rape me! I want him _dead_!"

"Be _careful_," he growled back as we landed on a spur of obsidian that spanned a magma pool. And then we were off again.

I got just a few glimpses of the hellcats as we ran. They didn't seem to be pushing themselves too much, and their scales blended into the terrain so well that I'd see one and lose it a moment later.

We must have gone twenty-five, twenty-six kilometers when we reached a towering wall of sulphur columns. I counted the cons as they passed me: Guv, plus three, so we still had everyone that was alive. And six 'cats, who bounded from one column to the next with enviable ease.

The temperature rose steadily as I climbed, bringing up the rear. Sweat poured from my skin, washing away the ash. I sipped from my water pack more and more frequently.

"Eileen!" I heard my mate bellow. I looked up and found him almost to the top.

"What?!" I screamed back.

"Get that ass movin'!"

'What does he _think_ I'm doing?' I asked myself as I passed the slowest of the cons. 'Takin' a fuckin' stroll?' I was three-quarters of the way there when searing-hot light hit my back. I swung around, into the shadow of the column I'd been climbing. I reached for another, but it was hot enough to burn my hand if I tried to hold onto it.

"Riddick!" I yelled. I could hear him ordering around the three cons that had made it to the top. Something about rope and water, then telling them to run. I didn't know what he was thinking, but I knew he'd get me up there or die trying.

I didn't have to wonder long, as I was yanked from my shelter by a strong arm and sailed through the air in a long arc. The slowpoke screamed as the differential caught up and sent fireballs crashing against the cliff-face. Then I'd hit the ground again, and Riddick stood up in the shadow of an extra-tall pillar. His skin steamed as he stared at me.

"Let's go." I was up and running before the 'o' got all the way out of his mouth.

It was the 'cats that told me where Guv and his two buddies were, as they paced around the dip in the rock. My mate and I crept to the top of the hill on our bellies, only to find the tarmac swarming with Necromongers, including what looked to be three of the masked things, Dark-And-Chilly, and Pale-Boy, who was as decked-out as he'd been for his little speech in New Mecca.

We returned to where the others crouched to make our plans. I sucked the last of my water from the pouch before discarding it. Whatever the outcome of the fight ahead, I wouldn't need it anymore.

"I figure we got three, maybe four minutes before the sun hits us again, burns out this whole valley," I said, drawing a dagger and a throwing knife. I turned to Five, who was watching me intently. –Enemies beyond,- I told her. –Enemies block our escape.-

-Pride will kill Enemies,- she replied. –Pride not stay here alive.-

-Fight and _live_,- I responded. –Pride _must_ live.- She growled and nudged my face with hers, the scales a gentle rasp against my cheek. We both turned when heavy boots could be heard coming our way. Then the hangar doors opened with a screech, and all hell broke loose.

We let the guards and Necros shoot at each other for a bit before we joined the party. The first Necro that came at me got the throwing knife in his eye. From there, it all became a blur; thrust, parry, sidestep, lunge, duck, and so on. Once, Riddick swung me around while I kicked the shit out of everything in range. Then he and a Necro were caught by one of their guns, and he went flying, hitting the tarmac like a rag doll. The distraction allowed a Necro to tackle me, and my head slammed against stone. Dazed, I slit the man's throat and looked again. My mate had risen to his knees, and Dark-And-Chilly was advancing on him with a pair of guns. Time slowed and stopped, and a spot of red-pink appeared and grew to surround us. The Necromongers, guards, and the three cons—god, I didn't even know if any of them were still alive—all vanished, leaving me, Riddick, and the half-dozen hellcats. Shirah appeared and stepped up to my man.

"I think you know now," she told him. "I think you know who tore Furya apart." She put her right hand over her heart, then began to extend it. "This mark carries the anger of an entire race. Well… it's going to hurt." Then she touched him, and blue light spread around her hand even as she and the haunting landscape disappeared, returning us to Crematoria.

He was shaking with the power Shirah had bestowed upon him, and the blue light limned his blood vessels. Then the light burst from him, sending a wave in all directions. I saw it come toward me, then there was only the pain in my head and darkness.

* * *

I might have come around for a few seconds; I felt someone pulling on my arm, and gentle jaws around my leg, but then the darkness overwhelmed me again.

* * *

I finally did wake up all the way, propped up against a rock inside the hangar. Fire roared by outside, and hellcat Three nudged my arm and looked away. I followed his gaze to see my mate lurch to his feet and stare at Pale-Boy.

"I was supposed to deliver a message to you, if Vaako failed to kill you," the Necro Furyan said, taking off the last of his ornaments. His hair was so light that I almost couldn't see it against his skin. "A message from the Lord Marshal himself. He tells you to stay away from Helion, stay away from him, and in return, you'll be hunted no more." His eyes gleamed wickedly. "But Vaako will most likely report you as dead. So this is your chance. Your chance to do what no one has ever done."

Riddick's hand shot out and grasped the slighter man's right shoulder, and I could tell that he was terribly close to breaking the collarbone. If his hand squeezed any harder…

"No!" I shouted, flinching at the pain that began bouncing through my skull. My mate turned to look at me, releasing the other Furyan. "He's one of us." For once, _I_ had _him_ confused, when it was usually the other way around. Pale-Boy pulled the left side of his jacket open to reveal a glowing handprint. I felt and saw mine radiate an echoing light, and the big guy looked at his chest and noticeably jumped.

"What the fuck?" he asked himself. I stood, and Three pushed himself under my hand to steady me as I walked over to the other two.

"Would our ship have gotten through the blockade?" I asked. Pale-Boy didn't get to reply, though, as a vision swept over me.

Jackie, pacing in our freighter's lounge, with Ziza sound asleep on the couch. "What am I gonna do?" she asked herself. "They've got a cordon around the planet so tight I can't get off the ground, let alone off-world." She rubbed her forehead, still pacing, and the vision faded.

"Never mind," I told the Necro as he opened his mouth to answer. "She did what we told her for once, and is still laying low."

"A Seer," Pale-Boy mused. I gave him a look, and he elaborated. "One who sees the future, or present occurrences far beyond them. Prized as advisors to many rulers, especially on Furya." Riddick glared. "The Necromonger in me warns you not to go back. The Furyan in me… hopes you won't listen." The ornamental knife that had killed Irgun fell to the ground. "God knows, I've dreamed of it." Then he turned toward the inferno outside.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" I asked him. Two of the hellcats moved to cut him off.

"I've done… unbelievable things in the name of a faith that was never my own," he replied quietly. "I deserve to burn forever." He looked longingly at the tarmac and the bits of empty Necromonger armor that blew across it in the wind.

"No." Riddick surprised me by speaking up, even as he wrapped an arm around me. "We know nothing of our heritage. If we can find others that slipped by the Lord Marshal as she did," this said with a slight squeeze of my shoulders, "others whose parents got them to safety, then we need to know more about the traditions we should have grown up with." It was a longer speech than I'd ever heard from him, outside of tactical discussions. Pale-Boy's shoulders slumped as he turned back toward us.

"Very well," he sighed. "But what are we to do with him?" A collapsed form against the other wall stirred, then sat up to reveal a familiar face.

"Ohh, my head," Guv groaned.


	8. Chapter 8

More from Vaako, and a glimpse into Zhylaw, and then the final showdown. I think I watched that one sequence three times to make sure I'd gotten the moves down right. This is the end of the fic, but I have ideas for shorts set in this universe, if anyone's interested. Let me know what you think!

**Sight**

A _Chronicles of Riddick_ Alternate Universe

Chapter Eight

With the help of the Purifier—he would only give us his Necromonger title, saying he wasn't worthy of bearing his Furyan name—we returned to Helion Prime undetected. The undercutter even got parked next to our ship.

Jackie was extremely glad to see that we were fine, thanks, and I gave Imam's talisman to a quietly grieving Lajjun. Guv was quite interested in exploring our ship, and the Purifier had resigned himself to waiting for results when we went after Zhylaw. We would start out in the city, ambush some soldiers and disguise ourselves in their armor, but Ziza stopped us momentarily.

"Are you gonna stop the new monsters now?" she wanted to know. Oh, yes, we told her. They wouldn't last much longer.

Our ambush was a success, and we managed to reach the giant ship the Purifier had called 'Basilica' just as it began to pull in its stairs. Snake-Bitch—Dame Vaako—was there, and Riddick bumped her shoulder, on purpose. She followed us inside, and we gave her a glimpse of our eyes before melting into the crowd. Her panic was rather amusing, and I knew she was running off to tell her husband that he'd screwed up and left us alive.

Basilica, Vaako Quarters

"You mean on Helion," the new First Among Commanders stated, hoping that his wife was wrong.

"I mean here, on this very _ship_!" she replied in a frightened hiss. He wanted to shake her, snap her out of the panic she was working herself into.

"Could you be wrong? The mind fabricates fear." He grabbed her arm roughly. "Could you be wrong?!" She pulled her arm from his grasp.

"Not so wrong as you when you left them alive." He'd seen them dead, unmoving. He _had_! "Now it's twice the mistake; not only your failure, but now, the report of success! How do we salvage this? How? _How_?" Dame Vaako asked herself. He nodded.

"Lord Marshal's got to be warned." He would have walked out then, but her next words stopped him in his tracks.

"You will _never_ see the Underverse!" Vaako turned to face her again. "He will kill us _both_ before our due time." Then she paused, looking thoughtful. "I say we give them their chance. If they are _half_ of what you think, they could at least wound the Lord Marshal, and _that _is when you must act."

He frowned. "Just to take his place. Just to keep what I kill."

"It is the Necromonger way," she replied.

"It is not _enough_!" he thundered back at her.

"Then you do it for the faith!" Her hiss gave him pause… again. "If he has fear, he has weakness. If he has weakness, Vaako…"

"… he is unworthy of lordship," he concluded.

"We do it for all Necromongers," she confirmed, nodding slowly.

"Protect the faith." It would have to sustain him through the next few hours, however long it took.

"This can still be a day of days," she said, reminding him of Zhylaw's declaration earlier. "But the timing must be flawless."

Basilica, Command Center

"We found this Lensor, dead," the trooper reported as his comrades dropped the creature at Zhylaw's feet. Its throat was cut almost to the spine, a gaping maw.

"Show me his last sights," the Lord Marshal ordered. Final Protocol would have to be put on hold for the moment, if someone on the ship was killing Lensors. The thing was plugged into a viewing orb.

A corridor, on the ship. Greens and blues, the normal cool colors. Then two armored forms walked by, one quite a bit smaller than the other, both radiating warm orange and yellow. Breeders, wearing his people's armor, masquerading as his troops!

The two figures looked at each other and then lunged, the smaller going straight for the Lensor with a long blade held against its forearm. The larger didn't draw anything as it flashed by, presumably after the creature's handler. Then snow filled the screen with the Lensor's death.

"Commander Toal…" He struggled to keep his voice level and calm-sounding. He'd seen the flash of silver eyes from both figures, the only thing out of place about them—well, other than the whole situation with breeders roaming his ship at will. Vaako had lied, or been deceived; Riddick and his female were still alive, and they must be coming for him.

"They won't escape this time," the dark-skinned Commander assured him. He hoped that the man was right. Otherwise, he'd have to kill them both himself. And that worried him.

Basilica, Quasi-Dead Grotto

Riddick put a knife into the heart of a writhing body, and as its pod rotated into the grotto, we rode along. The doors into the throne room were closed, and it sounded like there was quite the crowd outside. Just as we reached the doors, two soldiers assumed guarding positions. We crouched and silently moved to within a half-meter of the doors.

We'd shed most of the armor that we'd used to get on the ship; my lower body was still covered, while my mate wore the cuirass, greaves, bracers, and a cuff that covered his left bicep. While we had a moment, I stole a brief, fierce kiss from him. When I let him go, the big guy cocked a curious eyebrow.

"For luck," I whispered, earning a lopsided smile. Then he looked up at the openings in the doors and slid a blade across one bracer. The shimmering chime of metal on metal would be rather hard to ignore. On the third stroke, the two guards turned, and each of us drove a purloined blade into a face. Our momentum opened the doors, and then Riddick took one, two, three quick steps and leaped over the throne, one foot boosting him higher from its back. I could just see him drop right onto the Lord Marshal… and go right past.

"Stay your weapons," the man ordered, and soldiers froze even as I stepped around what my mate had vaulted. Zhylaw's focus was all on him, where he was regaining his feet—at the other end of the hall, leaving me at the madman's back. "Consider this," he said. "If you fall here, now, you'll never rise. But if you choose another way, the Necromonger way, you'll die in due time, and rise again in the Underverse."

"Yeah, great sales pitch," I said, causing Zhylaw to spin and stare in shock. Half-dead soul didn't see that coming, I guessed. "But it _really_ needs some work. Less absolutes, maybe." I wouldn't interfere unless it was absolutely necessary; this was Riddick's fight, and this freak had made it so thirty years ago.

"Convert now, or fall forever," he demanded, turning his attention back to Riddick. It was a mistake, but not one I would exploit… for now.

"You would kill everything I've ever known," was the reply. Then that fancy, back-heavy knife whistled through the air, and Zhylaw caught it as it passed his ear _and drew a line of blood on his cheek_. Score one for the Furyan.

"Not now," said a familiar voice just inside my hearing range. I looked up and glimpsed the Vaako pair on a balcony. Was it just me, or was there more gold on his armor? Whatever.

"Been a long time since I've seen my own blood," the Lord Marshal mused. Good, that meant that he'd probably forgotten what his own weaknesses were and wouldn't be defending them consciously. He used the knife to gesture to his soldiers, who moved back. Giving him room for a fight. Then the knife fell to the floor.

Suddenly, I could see his soul dart straight at my mate, his body following and throwing my man into a column. Two soldiers came close to me, and I turned to gut them, but Aereon materialized at my side. Huh. Didn't think Elementals got worried. Guess they do.

Riddick staggered back to his feet, only to be battered back and forth as Zhylaw cheated and hit him from all sides, nearly at the same time. He blocked one punch, then took another to the jaw, a blow that really rattled him. The Lord Marshal leapt right over him—flashy move, and potentially dangerous—and nearly ran into my mate's backhand. Then it was back to the flurry of punches and kicks, though more were getting blocked now.

Then the infamous convict hit the floor, and Zhylaw decided to boast.

"_These_ are his final moments!" he claimed, deliberately raising one arm of his soul, then the other, and letting the body follow. He went to one knee in front of my mate. "Give me your soul!" My heart leapt into my throat as a grayscale version of Riddick's face was pulled up, Shirah's mark flaring into intense pain, but then there was a struggle on the Necromonger's part. The image snapped back.

"Fuck you!" my mate roared, twisting up and catching Zhylaw with his fist. The Necro went flying across the room. No sooner had he landed than he zipped up onto a statue and broke off the spear the figure had been holding to its own ear. He jumped back down and almost hit his opponent. Two spins, lashing out and missing. Upswing, miss. Horizontal, miss. Then a jab, which Riddick caught in his elbows, holding the spear just long enough to try to backhand the madman. It missed, and the freak zipped around behind him and slammed the shaft against his back. The Furyan rolled, then caught the spear just before it could pierce the armor protecting his solar plexus.

The grip was used to lift my mate and propel him halfway across the room, at which point the Lord Marshal withdrew it and hit him with the other end before he could touch the ground. A meter or more broke off with the strike, even as Riddick sprawled at the base of the dais, right in front of me. The rest of the spear was discarded, and my hand reached out and took a spear from one of Aereon's guards. The man didn't even notice.

Meanwhile, Zhylaw had appropriated another Necro's spiked staff and leaned down to draw it tight against his foe's throat. I heard metal wrench and break and noted that Vaako was now armed with a triple-headed poleaxe.

"You're not the one to bring me down," I heard Zhylaw say. That was my cue. I leaned back, spear balanced in my hand, and hurled the weapon at the Necromonger. It plunged into his lower back; not high enough to hit the abdominal aorta, nor centered to sever the spine, but a debilitating injury, nonetheless. He pulled it out and looked around to see who had dared to interfere, but, with no one close, he had no one to blame.

"Now!" Dame Vaako screeched. "Kill the beast while he's wounded!" Vaako leapt from the balcony and moved to stand over his boss.

"Help me, Vaako. Kill him," the Lord Marshal directed. I saw Riddick grab the ornamental knife out of the corner of my eye. Vaako—and yes, he _did_ have more gold decorations on his armor now—raised the polearm high. "Vaako?!"

"Forgive me," the other Necromonger said before beginning his strike. Events seemed to slow before my eyes as I heard Dame Vaako say something about 'flawless.' The axe descended. Zhylaw's soul made a break for it, turning to look where he was going too late and reaching his limit just in front of my mate, who raised the knife to make his own strike.

Well, he was damned if he did and damned if he didn't. Fun.

The axe clanged against the floor, and the knife sank down through the top of the Lord Marshal's skull. Dame Vaako cried her protests, but that wouldn't change anything. Riddick snapped the hilt off the blade, struck Zhylaw's chin with his knee, and watched impassively as the former ruler collapsed bonelessly.

"Noooo!" The cry echoed from the balcony where Snake-Bitch stood. Probably had planned on her dear hubby offing the old man. Aereon smirked at my side.

"Now, what would be the odds of that?" she mused. I rolled my eyes—damn interfering Elementals—and strode up to my lover. I wiped away some of the blood smearing his temple and looked into his eyes.

"Your mother has been avenged," I whispered. "All who died on his orders may rest in peace." He nodded, and I felt his muscles begin to tremble. He'd truly fought himself to the point of exhaustion. I walked him to the closest seat where he could hide the fatigue—the throne. Then I sat on one of the armrests, and he leaned into my side.

"Abomination!" I looked up and saw Dame Vaako headed for us with the broken head of the statue's spear. She held it clumsily, and I drew just one of my daggers to deflect the blow and send the piece of metal skittering across the floor. I slashed the air in front of her, and she backpedaled so quickly that she hit a pillar before she had time to realize it was even there. Then my bare arm was across her throat and I was growling into her face.

"_Don't_ fuck with me, bitch," I snarled. "You've seen what I can do, and that was when it wasn't personal." She flinched. "Personal turns me downright _nasty_, and then I tend to make my victims suffer. So watch yourself, and don't make a single wrong move." I pushed away, making sure her throat would bruise, and returned to Riddick's side.

Vaako said something to her, I wasn't paying attention to what, and they turned and approached the dais, his hand on the back of her neck. His other hand still held the decorative axe.

Rather than attack us—a move I would have suspected—Vaako pressed down on his wife's neck until she was prostrated in front of us. Then he went to one knee as well. Behind him, soldiers and courtiers alike abased themselves for us. Only Aereon remained upright.

"You keep what you kill." My mate's statement hit me like a sledgehammer. He had killed the Lord Marshal, which meant that _he_ was now elevated to that august position.

So what the hell were we supposed to do now, with an entire civilization looking to us for direction?


End file.
